


Kiss in the Kitchen like it's a Dancefloor

by keelah_seyah



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Ball, Dancing, Dress Up, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22463164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelah_seyah/pseuds/keelah_seyah
Summary: Fancy dress hour plus smooches, soft boi fjord, what more do we need?
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Fjord, Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 143





	Kiss in the Kitchen like it's a Dancefloor

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Sunflower, Vol. 6 by Harry Styles, which I listened to on repeat while writing this. Unbeta'd and unedited because it's midnight and you can pry my em-dashes from my cold dead hands and also because if I don't post this immediately I'll forget to.

Caduceus turned at the sound of feet entering the kitchen, resting his wooden spoon on top of the pot of rice he’d been stirring absentmindedly, trying to take his mind off the fact that this peace celebration was going to be full of people that made him feel out of his depth. The words of the Empire’s king still rang in his head occasionally when he heard Beau and Caleb discussing plans and politics amongst themselves. He couldn’t help but feel like there was something he was missing, something that allowed the other members of the party to glide through conversations with the upper class but made him trip over his own tail.   
All of that was put out of his mind however as he turned to see Fjord poking his torso through the door, as though he were checking it were safe to enter the kitchen.   
“Oh, hey Fjord. I was just cooking some rice for dinner - Jester said there would be food at the party but I wasn’t sure if it would be served right away or later on, and I didn’t want anyone to drink on an empty stomach. I hear that’s -” he trailed off as Fjord stepped fully into the kitchen and closed the door behind him. “Oh hey, you look great. Is that what you’re wearing tonight?”   
Fjord pulled a face at that, and Caducueus recognised that he didn’t feel quite as good as he looked.   
And he did look good. Great, even. His shirt was a loose fitting Menagerie Coast silk in sunflower yellow, perfectly highlighting the contrast between the different tones of his skin, making the paler greens stand out even more the way Caduceus always thought of them, like sunlight filtering through thin spots in the canopy on a late spring afternoon, brushing up against the dark moss forest floor of his neck. His hair had been combed back so that the touches of silver at his temples and in his forelock seemed deliberately placed, like they’d been painted there rather than simply growing naturally. Below where his shirt tucked into a deep ocean blue sash, he was dressed more simply, if no less strikingly, in black breeches and boots.  
“I look like some idiot from the cover of one of Jester’s books. Which I imagine may have been her aim, but it doesn’t make me feel any more comfortable. I looked in the mirror and got this sinking feeling in my gut that reminded me of - do you remember when Jester suggested offering me to the dragon?” Caduceus nodded, trying not to laugh. “Like that.” Fjord sighed waved a hand up and down Cad’s body. “How have you gotten away from Jester’s makeover mission upstairs? She’s even managed to get Beau to wear eyeliner, and I think she found a coat with embroidery for Caleb? I came in here to commiserate and you’re untouched.” His voice was rising as he complained, and Caduceus winced as he heard the unmistakable sound of Jester’s bouncing run on the stairs.   
“Not so loud.” Caduceus made a shushing motion with his hand, but it was too late. The door to the kitchen burst open.   
“Your turn Caduceus!” She called out, turning his name into a song the way she only ever seemed to do when whatever she was about to do would cause him discomfort. It was like how poisonous foxbells looked so good and drew in the bees, so you thought they were safe to pluck and tuck behind your ear, unless you had experience.   
His experience with Jester at this moment activated his flight response, and without even thinking about it he blinked into invisibility, much to Fjord’s amusement.   
“Nice try Caduceus, but I know that only lasts a few seconds, and also.” Jester’s mouth twitched up in a smile she must have stolen directly from the Traveler’s face it was so mischevious. “Your rice is boiling over.”   
Caduceus whipped around and immediately moved his rice off the stove. By the time he’d stopped fussing with it, he’d returned to visibility. When he turned back around, Jester was looking at him with curiosity.   
“You don’t usually mind when I do your hair or dress you up. What’s different this time?”   
“Nothing. Let’s go get ready.” Her eyes narrowed, and he knew she didn’t believe him, but then she shrugged.   
“Alright! Let’s go!”   
Caduceus considered himself a patient person, but by the time Jester had finished braiding his hair and adjusting the Xhorhassian style cloak that Essek’s tailor had provided, he was twitching like Beauregard after ten minutes of meditation. He glanced in the mirror as he passed it, and had to stop for a moment. His cloak looked almost like it had been woven from spider silk, and Caduceus was lying to himself if he said he didn’t love it. It just didn’t feel like it suited him. Surely something this deliberately beautiful was meant for someone else to wear on a dancefloor, swirling out around them as they danced. But instead it was draped like a mantle over Caduceus’s awkward frame. He took a deep breath and headed down the stairs, ready to leave for the ball. 

Fjord was hovering in the hall at the bottom of the staircase with Beauregard, who was wearing what looked like the tailor’s take on her expositor’s robes, combined with a drapey robe more like what Essek usually wore. It was elegant, and she looked like a scholar. The sleeves were wide and flowing, and he could tell that even if she kept the rest of it, those would go. He wondered if she’d let him keep the silk. Fjord had put on a knee length coat of fine wool over his outfit. Deep blue, like his sash, but with golden buttons. It looked like a thinner, less practical, version of a sailor’s peacoat, with more tucking at the waist.   
“Oh hey Caduceus, you look all, flowy and shit.” Beau said, as he walked up to join them. He twisted his hands around themselves, wishing he was able to bring his staff with him. Fjord looked up at him, and a soft smile crossed his face.   
“I like your braid- “ he started, but he was interrupted by the clattering of Jester and Nott running full speed down the stairs with Yasha not far behind them (at a more sensible pace).   
“CALEB” Nott called as she ran “IF YOU DON’T HURRY UP WE’LL LEAVE WITHOUT YOU -” and then as if realising that might be exactly what Caleb would prefer, she followed up with “AND YOU WON’T GET TO SEE IF ESSEK FLOATS WHEN HE’S DANCING.” A Zemnian curse word floated down the stairs towards the group and before long Caleb was descending the stairs. He was wearing what almost looked like a version of Beau’s robes, but in a deep purple, that highlighted the copper sheen of his hair. His hair was pulled back tight into a knot at the back of his head, with just one or two loose curls around his face. Despite the differences in their colouration and facial structure, Beau and Caleb looked like small twin children who had been dressed for a family portrait. The idea made Caduceus smile to himself as the Nein set off towards the Bastion where the ball was being held. 

Nott and Jester walked out in front, both wearing dresses that tucked in at the waist then made great billowing bell shapes that ended at their mid calves. Over top they wore capelets of fine wool, and Xhorhassian wildflowers were stitched into both the skirts and the capelets. Behind them trailed Beau, Caleb and Yasha. Caleb seemed to be sticking to Beau’s side like she was there solely to protect him, and Beau and Yasha were talking quietly about how beautiful Jester looked. Yasha herself was a monochromatic beauty in a long gown in deep black silk that brushed the cobblestones as they walked. Unlike everyone else she was without a coat, but there was a spiderweb pattern of lace that stretched from her shoulders down to her hands. The dress clung to the shape of her body like a second skin in places and pooled like water in others, and Caduceus could tell Beau didn’t know what to do with her eyes as they talked. Following up the rear of the group were Fjord and Caduceus. For the most part they were silent, but as they approached the Lucid Bastion Fjord coughed. 

“You really do look good, Deuces.” Caduceus turned to Fjord to see him looking up with that same soft smile as earlier.   
“Thanks Fjord - you don’t look half -- I mean you look good as well.” Caduceus could feel heat rising in his cheeks as he spoke, and he looked away from Fjord to stop himself from staring.   
“Thanks.” They lapsed back into silence. 

Caduceus thought about starting another conversation, maybe asking if Fjord knew any of the dances they were going to see during the night, but before he could work himself up to it, they arrived. 

They’d never been into the ballroom of the Lucid Bastion before, and even if they had, Caduceus doubted very much that it had looked like this. It shone with silver light even before they entered, every surface shining, with the noble people of the Dynasty dressed much like the Nein in their sparkling best. Food was laid out on the tables in portions that Caduceus couldn’t identify the ingredients of at a glance, nor work out how they were supposed to be eaten. Trays of drinks were carried around by waiters dressed in nicer clothes than most people wore to their own funeral, and Caduceus froze in the doorway, watching it all unfold before him. He didn’t know how long he stood there, stock still, watching, until a hand gently took his and led him to one of the tables that circled the dance floor and helped him to sit down. 

“Caduceus - are you alright?” There was a voice attached to the hand - Fjord. Caduceus blinked and shook his head quickly to clear it. Then he realised that could be taken to mean that he wasn’t alright.   
“No - I mean, yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”   
“You disappeared for a second there Caduceus, are you sure?”   
“I disappeared?”   
“Yeah - you went still and then you vanished. Like you do when you’re scared. Did you see something?”   
“No I just -” The room was beginning to come back into focus in Caduceus’ eyes, and he turned to Fjord. “I have no idea what to do here.” He found the honesty coming unexpected to his tongue as he met Fjord’s eyes. They were wide and clearly concerned. “I’ll just sit though, for a while, take my time. You should go dance, have fun.”   
“Are you sure?”   
No.   
“Yeah, of course!” Caduceus busied himself with selecting a bizarre looking fruit from one of the trays of food on the table. “I’ll eat this, and I’ll work up to the dance floor.” He tried smiling at Fjord, but it felt false.   
“If you’re sure. But come and find me if you need anything, alright. Or one of the others - just. Don’t suffer for our sakes, okay?” Fjord stood, and then paused, one hand on Caduceus’s shoulder, for just a second, before walking off.   
Caduceus bit into the fruit he’d picked up to distract himself and immediately regretted it. He pulled it away from his mouth and fixed it with a look.   
“Who makes fruit out of wax? What is that for?”   
At least it was enough of a shock to him that it jolted him back into the moment. He looked up and took stock of his surroundings. Still as shiny and overwhelming as before, but now he could make out details. Jester and Beau were dancing, not in time with anyone else, but in time with the music, and so wrapped up in one another that they would never know that they didn’t know the steps. Sure enough Yasha was nearby, watching them with a fond smile and sadness in her eyes. Caduceus scanned the room for the rest of his friends and found Fjord deftly snatching Nott’s flask out of her hands as she held it above a bowl of… juice? Soup? Caduceus wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything served from a bowl made of glass before. Nearby were Caleb and Essek, sitting off to the side like Caduceus himself, leaning into each other’s space in animated conversation. He looked back over at Fjord, who caught his eye and flashed him a smile before reaching his arm over his own head as Nott tried to climb his leg. Caduceus smiled in spite of himself. Even here, his friends were the same as they always were. This was simply them again in different clothes, not a group of strangers, the way he’d worried that they’d feel, dressed like nobility. It helped. 

“You don’t seem to want to be here, Master Clay.” A woman’s voice drifted over his shoulder, and Caduceus looked towards the speaker. The bright queen was settling herself in the chair Fjord had vacated. She looked as though her dress was made by stitching gems directly onto lace.   
“Is that comfortable?” Caduceus found himself asking before her question really sunk in. “I mean, your majesty. Should I stand?” He began to push himself out of his chair, but she simply laughed and gestured for him to sit down again.   
“I’ve worn more comfortable dresses, that’s for certain.”   
“Oh. Well. It’s very beautiful, which I imagine is what the point of it was. I don’t really understand fashion, but everyone here is dressed in very pretty clothes.”   
“Thank you. But I rather wonder if you’re you’re avoiding my opening comment.” The corners of the queen’s eyes were crinkled in amusement.   
“Ah. Yeah, I don’t really know what to do at things like this - or around fancy people. I didn’t get much, uh, societal experience, out in the savilirwood.”   
“Well I appreciate that you made the effort to come, despite your discomfort. But if you have somewhere you’d rather be, don’t let niceties keep you.” She leaned in a little, and whispered. “Can I tell you a secret?” Caduceus’ ears twitched, and he wanted to back away.   
“Uh, I don’t know if, um. If I’m the person to tell, ma’am.”   
There was that laugh again, like they were in on the same joke. Caduceus did not know what the joke was.   
“It’s not a big secret,” she admitted, “but a lot of the people here also don’t want to be here. But they have a duty to be here, to talk to the right people, make matches for their families, meet the youths of the dens. But if I were you, and I didn’t have a duty to be here… There’s a side door behind the curtain next to the painting of my last life.” She winked, and nodded her head towards the painting of a Drow man and a woman that was presumably his wife, with linked hands. She stood then, and walked away towards another table where she quickly busied herself in another conversation. 

Caduceus scanned the room for his friends again and saw that Yasha had joined Beau and Jester on the dancefloor, and Nott had managed to rescue her flask from Fjord, who was dancing with another half orc, a woman with black hair cascading down her back and a white gown that glittered with gemstones. Caleb and Essek had disappeared - probably back to Essek’s tower to work on whatever their conversation had been about, Caduceus thought. Satisfied that his friends were happy where they were, he stood and made his way over to the heavy velvet curtain that lay against the wall. Sure enough, as he peeked behind there was a small door he could duck out without attracting the attention of anyone around him, if he was careful. He timed it for the end of the song, when everyone would be clapping for the musicians, and stepped through into the cool of the perpetual night. 

Before long he found himself back at the Xorhaus, and without changing out of his finery, wandered straight back into the kitchen to finish cooking the curry he’d begun earlier. The cutting of vegetables, the sound of the oil in the pan, the kettle boiling for tea on the range, these were sensations he knew. And none of it would be made of wax. As the kettle whistled, he missed the bell above the door chiming until his name was being called. 

“CADUCEUS?” Fjord looked like he was about to head up to the rooftop garden, but he glanced in the kitchen door as he passed. “Oh there you are! I had a feeling you’d come back here.” He walked over and put a hand on Caduceus’ shoulder.   
“You were looking for me?”   
“Yeah! You vanished! I came over to - to check on you, and you were gone. So I thought I’d come back here and make sure you were doing alright. You gave me a bit of a scare.”   
“Oh, I - I just didn’t really want to be there.”   
“I could tell - I’m sorry. I thought you’d enjoy it, once you got used to it.” He paused, his hand still on Caduceus’ shoulder, for just a little too long.  
“Why were you looking for me there? Were you not having fun dancing?”   
“No I - I was going to ask if you wanted to dance with me.”   
“I don’t know the steps. I don’t think - I don’t think I’ve ever danced.”   
“That’s not the point. I just thought - nevermind.” Fjord took his hand away and brushed it down on his coat as if to wipe off residue. Caduceus took a risk.  
“Do you still want to dance with me?”  
“Huh?” Fjord looked back up at him, and Caduceus took a deep breath.   
“I would like to dance with you - but not there. Do you still want to dance with me? Here?”   
“I-” Fjord hesitated for a second, but Caduceus could feel the honesty in his voice when he continued “I’d want to dance with you anywhere, if I’m being truthful Caduceus.”   
He stepped back and shrugged off the sailor’s coat, draping it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, then held out a hand.   
“Can I have this dance?”   
“Yeah - I think you can.” Caduceus took his hand and allowed himself to be pulled in close. Fjord’s free hand moved to his waist, and he smiled up at him.   
“You step like this - one, two - yeah like that.” He demonstrated, and Caduceus struggled to watch his feet instead of Fjord’s face, but they fell into a quiet rhythm quickly.   
“Just like that” Fjord murmured as they swayed in the middle of the kitchen, and Caduceus met his eyes. That soft smile spread across Fjord’s face again, and Caduceus leaned down almost on instinct, and pressed his lips to Fjord’s. The kiss was chaste, and quick, but Fjord’s lips were soft, and as Caduceus pulled away, Fjord pressed back in, kissing back harder. The butterflies that had been dancing in Caduceus’ chest all night intensified and he felt the hand that he’d rested on Fjord’s shoulder for the dance reach up without his permission to brush at the stubble that was beginning to grow on his cheeks. Eventually they broke apart, and Fjord blushed a deep green.   
“I hope -” he started in his old accent, and then stopped, resuming in his true voice. “I hope that was alright.”   
“It was perfect.” Caduceus leaned in again.


End file.
